The Goblet of Fire : The Magic of Ages
by WarriorLoverInc
Summary: Magic doesn't exist. Or does it? Danny finds the hard way that it does, and it was painful. The foreign exchange student from America intrigues Harry, why does he act the way he does? Something's off, if his instincts are right, You-Know-Who may know.
1. Chapter 1: Kidnapped

**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Danny Phantom and the Magic of Ages**

**By WarriorLoverInc**

**Chapter 1: Kidnapped**

The boy glanced between the smoking ruins of the mailbox to the strangely garbed person before him. That stick… it had almost hit him!

"Hey!" he shouted incensedly at the black robed man(?), "Watch where you're aiming that thing! You could really hurt someone!"

There was a soft growl from his hidden face, "That would be the point." _This boy is strange,_ he watched the black haired child examine what was left of the metal blue-painted Muggle device. He wasn't panicking even though he was faced with magic—which he couldn't have possibly heard of before—in fact, he seemed to be more worried about the destroyed mailbox than the dangerous wand-wielding stranger contemplating him. The man(?) tensed as the boy turned his _icy_ blue eyes upon him, the situation just seeming to catching up with him.

"You…" he said slowly, "what was that? That red light that came out of that… stick?" he gestured to the black highly-polished wand clutched tightly in the robed mans(?) outstretched arm.

Suddenly, the boys' breath became a crystallized misty cloud before him and he flinched, seeming to expect something any moment. Thoroughly confused, the "stick-man" considered the conditions; they were standing on the sidewalk through a deserted city center park in the sweltering summer heat, it shouldn't be possible to see ones breath. _Normally._ But he had enough experience in things that would not be considered normal to most the world to brush off abnormalities such as this. He was no _Muggle_ after all; he wasn't an ignorant, unworthy little—

"I AM THE BOX GHOOOOOOST!"

The floating, blue-glowing man just appeared out of nowhere, facing the T-shirt and jeans clad boy, arms raised, looking strange… and _pathetic._

"_Avada Kedavera!"_

The annoyance disappeared with the green ray of the deadly curse and a surprised yelp. It obviously had not anticipated being attacked from behind.

The boy blinked, and quickly dropped the tension he had held, only to become even tenser when the man moved and pointed his wand at him.

Narrowing his eyes and speaking in a very clear voice with a danger hint to the edge, he asked who he was, what he was doing and what the man was playing at. When the cloaked figure didn't reply, without missing a beat the boy gathered what seemed to be a ball of green energy in his hand, and threw it at him(?).

Intrigued, the man merely stepped aside and the shot missed completely. Whipping up his wand, _"Crucio!"_

The boy abruptly dropped to the ground convulsing in spasms of pain. Though his eyes were shut tight, and he was silently screaming, the man didn't let up until a whole minute had passed. Who needed heavy iron maidens, knives, or spiked cuffs when you had the Cruciatus Curse, one of the most painful torture devices ever, one of the three Unforgivable Curses.

Ceasing the spell and striding over to him, he promptly slung the unconscious boy over his shoulder and Disapparated.

…

He read the brochure again. It had sickly neon colors that caught the eye, and one could tell it was a cheap travel leaflet with just a glance. "ONE OF THE MOST HAUNTED CITIES IN AMERICA!" it boasted. There was a map sporting bright red dots indicating supernatural hot-spots across the city. One of them, he noticed, was a Muggle school… strange. Opening to the first page, he skimmed the list of "Most Haunted Places"; the mayors' mansion, certain streets, Casper High School, a local museum. The next page held some of the profiles of frequent ghosts, informing the reader of interesting details, names and hang-outs to name a few.

Giving a slight sickly cough that was followed by a wheezing frown, he wondered how these Muggles knew of the existence of ghosts, why the Ministry hadn't done anything and most of all—he skimmed some of the brochures pictures—why these ghosts seemed corporeal. His somewhat existent brow furrowed, his servant should be arriving any minute now with the report on the anomaly city, "AMITY PARK" according to the brochure.

Suddenly, the fire before him flared to life, morning-orange flames roaring heatedly. They illuminated the dark, dank, dusty room, throwing long shadows over the rotting floor-boards and the figure standing behind his high-backed chair. The cloaked figure dumped a bundle to the side and knelt to one knee, "My Lord…" he reverently addressed the thing in the chair.

A snake curled around the legs of the armchair _hssss_ed violently, raising its head to the intruder of its sleep. But at a sound from the chair, it relaxed its head and settled on fixing the kneeling figure with its creepy stare.

"You may rise," a breathy voice told from within the seats cushions.

The figure stood. "_Wormtail!_" the voice called.

A gaunt man with a stout body and thin pointed nose timidly scurried out of a shadowed corner, "Ye—yes my Lord?"

"Bring a chair for our guest." He gestured to the bundle the cloaked man had left on the floor. Being in the shadow of his chair, it was too dark to quite distinguish what or who it was.

Wormtail jumped to it and soon was dragging a plain wooden chair across the room, placing it with one side to the fire, and one to the high-backed chair. The thing distantly heard Wormtail's struggles to get the "guest" into the chair as he continued to examine the brochure, there were two pages dedicated to a single ghost who seemed to be the city's main attraction. "DANNY PHANTOM!" it read across the top, "AMITY PARK'S MOST MALEVOLANT GHOST!" A few pictures and some text told that this "Danny Phantom" fought ghosts almost on a daily basis, and caused immense property damage and mass panic on some occasions.

_Is it a poltergeist?_ He wondered. Looking up from his reading, he noticed Wormtail had their "guest" firmly roped to the chair.

"_Obscuro_." He muttered. A black blindfold pulled itself across the boys face out of nowhere.

"Should I awake him?" the man asked the creature in the chair.

Nodding slowly, it replied, "yessss…"

The man pointed his black polished wand at the boy's lolled head and said, "_Rennervate_."

The chair rocked as the boy viciously started awake and began frantically trying to see what was around, obviously hindered by the blindfold. The masked man lowered his wand; from his place next to the armchair, he glanced at Wormtail—who had scurried again into his corner—then back at the boy.

"Wh—where am I?" the captive was frantically trying to free his arms, "Who's there?" he was by no means calm.

"You may take care of the interrogation." The thing told the cloaked man.

He bowed slightly in response and took a step forward. The boy growled loudly, surprising the man slightly, he had honed detection skills if he could tell an enemy may be coming closer. Circling around behind him, the tip of his wand found itself against the boys' neck.

The boy gave a nervous gulp, "Heh, gonna' threaten me with a stick?"

If the mask were not in place, one could've seen the man's sly grin, "Yes I will Daniel Fenton. I think you remember what that stick did last time."

"Daniel" stayed silent, whether it be from the painful memories or the shock of an unknown stranger knowing his name.

"Would you prefer I call you Danny? Such a Muggle name…" he gripped his wand tighter, "we have a few questions for the son of the two most prestigious ghost experts in America." He leaned in next to his ear, "And you are answering them." He said in a low dangerous voice.

Danny scoffed, his untidy black hair whipping around his face as he turned his head towards the voice, "And what if I don't?"

The man grinned under his mask, "Then I'll be having some fun, and you'll be in for a world of hurt you never knew exist."

Stoning his face, he concentrated on his spell. _I created it myself,_ he thought; _let's see how it holds up._

Odd strings of white-black light seeped through the tip of his wand and into the Muggle child's body, traveling through his veins and making them glow with the same luminescence. Grinning, he sharply pulled his wand away from Danny's neck and was pleased to hear a strangled gasp escape the boy.

"I've been told it feels like someone ripping out your innards… depending on how hard I pull." The wand touched the now panting boys' neck again, the light swirling angrily through his veins, "This is only one spell in my arsenal."

The creature in the chair looked on approvingly, and Wormtail in the corner whimpered quietly.

"Now," the cloaked figure said over the hissing of the huge snake, "let us begin…"

…**.**

**Authors Note: **Hello! New story! I recently started reading Harry Potter, I've made my librarians jaw drop, I have read up to book four in a single week (but c'mon! It's not that hard!) Anyway, I've read some HP DP crossovers here and wanted to add my own to the arsenal. Anything I take directly from the book (Book Four, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) I'll enclose with these - **, and put the page number(s) and book after.

Make that cloaked figure be who you want it to be, I'm going to be taking a lot of creative liberties so just work with me here.

I know, I know. I should be working on my other stories. *Grumbles* But Review please anyway. I have a poll on my profile so vote for the story you want me to update the most.

Until next chapter,

Ciao!


	2. Chapter 2: Foreign Exchange

**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Danny Phantom and the Magic of Ages**

**By WarriorLoverInc**

**Chapter 2: Foreign Exchange**

**The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling down the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.** (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, pg. 168)

Several of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's friends stopped by to say hello, Draco too, but just for the annual sneering session and nothing more. After he left, Harry realized it was really getting to he and his friends that they didn't know what this thing everyone seemed to be going on about was. The train reached Hogwarts, the traditional hello to Hagrid was said, and they bustled off to the horseless carriages through the icy downpour clutching their luggage to them.

…

**The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down next to the other Gyffindors at the far side of the hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semi transparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

"Good evening," he said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry with the Sorting. I'm starving."

The Sorting of the new students into the Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry hadn't been present at one since his own. He was quite looking forward to it.** (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, pg. 173-174) But his fan-boy just couldn't leave him alone.

"Hiya Harry!"

Colin Creevy, it was his third year at Hogwarts. The boy who seemed to hero-worship Harry and left him feeling annoyed.

"Hi, Colin." Harry replied warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er—good." Said Harry. He just hoped Dennis wouldn't be exactly like his brother.

"He's really excited!" Colin was practically bouncing in his seat, "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er—yeah, all right." Harry turned back to Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick, "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same houses, don't they?" Judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom were placed in the Gryffindor House.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione in her I-know-it-all tone, "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

Looking up to the staff table, Harry noticed it seemed emptier than usual. Hagrid must still be fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagal was probably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor. But that only filled two chairs, who else was missing?

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?" asked a curious Hermione. She had been examining the table too.

They had yet to see a DADA teacher last more than three terms. The trio's favorite by far had been Professor Lupin, the werewolf.

"Maybe they couldn't get one!" Hermione was frantic, missing a class! Her worst nightmare… other than Professor McGonagal telling her she failed every subject. Harry chuckled quietly. This was going to be a good year.

After a few minutes of Ron complaining about how hungry he was, the doors of the Hall burst open, and silence fell. Professor McGonagal strode quickly to the three-legged chair in which the Sorting Hat sat, trailed by shivering, wet, scared and pathetic looking first years stumbling along as fast as they could to keep up. At the end of the trail, a black haired boy stood who didn't look like a first year at all. He wasn't nervous looking, he wasn't smiling either, he seemed to be taking everything in with mild indifference. Unlike the group he had followed in, he didn't look like a soggy stray dog; in fact, there was barely any water on him at all. The left half of his face was in shadow as he walked up and calmly stood at the back of the mob of first years waiting to be sorted.

Harry noticed a short sodden boy wrapped in a huge furry jacket frantically waving to Colin. He gave a thumbs-up and mouthed, _I fell in the lake!_ as if it were the best thing that could happen, Colin thumbs-upped back.

As the entire Hall looked on, a tear near the brim of the ancient Sorting Hat tore open and it burst into song:

_A thousand years or more ago  
When I was newly sewn,  
There lived four wizards of renown,  
Whose names are still well known:  
_

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.  
_

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
They hatched a daring plan  
To educate young sorcerers  
Thus Hogwarts School began.  
_

_Now each of these four founders  
Formed their own house, for each  
Did value different virtues  
In the ones they had to teach.  
_

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
Prized far beyond the rest;  
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
Would always be the best;  
_

_For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
Most worthy of admission;  
And power-hungry Slytherin  
Loved those of great ambition.  
_

_While still alive they did divide  
Their favourites from the throng,  
Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
When they were dead and gone?  
_

_Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
He whipped me off his head  
The founders put some brains in me  
So I could choose instead!  
_

_Now slip me snug about your ears,  
I've never yet been wrong,  
I'll have a look inside your mind  
And tell where you belong!_

There was polite clapping echoing across the hall.

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," Harry speculated, applauding with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," Ron informed him, "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up a new one."

"Ackerly, Stewart!" Professor McGonagal had informed the first years what to do, and started reading off her scroll.

Harry tuned everything out as the Stewart kid was being sorted, and watched the ceremony out of the corner of his eye, clapping when someone joined their table (most namely Colin's brother, Dennis), and occasionally engaging in conversation with someone. Finally, the last first year was sorted ("Whitby, Kevin!") into Hufflepuff. Just as Harry was about to turn to his plate and goblet to wait for Hogwarts famed feast food, McGonagal cleared her throat again, "You can all wait a few seconds more!" she called over the din. Everyone quieted considerably fast, what was up?

"We have the great honor to host a foreign exchange student from the American Academy for Young Wizards!" Harry clapped with the rest of the Hall; he noticed the black haired boy he had seen before was still standing before the Professor. _That must be who she was talking about_.

She cleared her throat, "Fenton, Daniel!"

Daniel trudged up the steps, sat at the stool, and the Hat was placed on his head.

_Hm… Hello there young Daniel._

_Hello hat._ Danny thought flatly.

_It seems you do not like to speak with hats._

_Not particularly, most hats I've met don't talk. They stay quiet and just sit there, like hats should._

_Ha ha ha! A sense of humor._

_If you want to call it that. Just get on with this "Sorting" thing._

_Right, right, the Sorting. _

There was a silence in Danny's head. He was aware of all the eyes on him and the pressuring silence, but he just ignored it.

Finally, _Let's see, you are extremely brave, Daniel. You have proved it to be so on many, many occasions. You are clever, but only in certain ways, but you most definitely are a hard worker… unless it has to do with school work._

_Oh ha ha. Sometimes I'm a little too busy for school._

_That I can see young Daniel, what intrigues me most is it seems you'd do very well in Slytherin. Especially considering your current situation. Where to place you… where to place you…_

_Gryffindor._

_Oh? Any particular reason you would like to be there?_

_I was told to._

_That, I believe, would be a good enough reason._

…

Harry didn't think anyone had ever had a longer sorting, but after many minutes of hush, it was broken.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry's table burst into cheering and applause, they had the foreign exchange student! Hermione looked very pleased, and eyed Daniel like a hungry vulture as he walked down the table, looking for a seat. She scooted over and made a space for him, which he took. She took his hand and started shaking it enthusiastically, "I'm Hermione Granger! Pleased to meet you!"

He smiled slightly, "As am I, Miss Granger. I'm Daniel Fenton, but you may call me Danny."

"How does the curriculum in America work? Do you have a Ministry? Who—"

Ron loudly cleared his throat across the table, Hermione sighed, "Danny, this is Ron Weasley," she gestured to the red head and he waved, "and Harry Potter." She pointed him out as well, but she felt it was unnecessary, surely Danny knew of Harry?

Danny nodded to each of them, "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Ron stared at Danny for two reasons, One: he hadn't reacted to Harry's name; Two: the part of his face that had been in shadow was now in the light. A huge flame shaped scar ran down the left side of his face from his hairline to a few centimeters away from the corner of his mouth. It wasn't ugly or marring, it was only slightly indented into his face and a few shades darker than the rest of his skin. It didn't go over any features on his face, so his ear and blue eyes lay untouched.

Danny noticed Ron staring and turned his face so the scar wasn't showing. Ron blinked, "Blimey! Where'd you get that one mate?"

Harry wondered too, but he remembered he _hated_ people staring at his scar, he turned to Ron, "He might not want to mention it, Ron." He whispered in his ear.

"But Harry!" he whispered back, "That thing is huge! Where do you think he got it?"

Harry shrugged, "I suppose he'll tell us if he wants to." He watched Danny run a hand over the scar, not missing the haunted look that flashed in his ice-blue eyes before it vanished. He started fiddling with his robes, "Maybe later…" he mumbled.

Professor Dumbledore stood, smiling around the hall, his arms opened wide in welcome, "I only have two words for you," he told them, his bass voice echoing softly around the room, "Tuck in."

**"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.** (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, pg. 180)

Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed out loud as Danny fell out of his seat. He got back on, blushing slightly, "Er—sorry, it just kinda' surprised me."

Hermione was on him in a second, "Really? How do they do it in your American school? Do they—"

Danny held his hands up in silent surrender, "Whoa! Hey! Ask away later but I'm starved!"

She frowned slightly as he started loading his plate and scoffing food along with Harry and Ron. Danny sighed slightly after a while, "Well…"

Hermione brightened instantly, he sighed heavily, no way out of it now, "We get out own plates from a stack and go through a buffet line."

"Really?" Hermione must have been taking mental notes because she had a somewhat vacant expression.

"Oh yeah," he got out through a mouthful of turkey, "the food's great. But…" he eyed a pudding before him, "Not like this British food. It's so different. We have a lot of fried things. What is this?" he poked the pudding with his fork.

"I-it's a pudding."

Harry turned and smiled, Neville Longbottom was sitting next to Danny, staring at his face in silent awe. Danny noticing his line of sight turned his face again, hiding his scar for the second time. Neville panicked, thinking he had offended him, he didn't really know anything about American customs, "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you!"

Danny smiled disarmingly, his face still turned slightly, "It's okay… what's your name?"

Neville calmed slightly, "Neville, Neville Longbottom."

It took all of Danny's willpower to not snicker at his last name. "Danny Fenton." He turned to the pudding, "this doesn't look anything like a pudding…"

Ron blinked, "Well, what do your puddings look like?"

"Uh… pudding? They look like…" he tried to think of a good description, "Smooth mud."

Ron made a gagging sound, "Remind me never to eat American pudding."

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as they continued eating and laughing jovially, "You're lucky there's a fest at all tonight you know," he said, "there was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

Feeling someone's gaze on him, Nick glanced down and noticed the boy goggling at him, he goggled back, "_My God…_" he whispered. No one seemed to notice this through.

"Why? Wha' happened?" Harry asked through a sizable chunk of juicy steak.

"Peeves of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head and leaving the trance, his cranium wobbling dangerously. He pulled his ruff up a little higher. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast—well, it's quite out of the question, you know how he is, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council—the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance—but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

At the mention of the word ghost, the boy, Nick noticed, tensed visibly. Hermione seemed to notice it too, "Danny, have you ever seen a ghost before?"

"Oh, plenty of times," he somewhat growled, "All the ones in my hometown attack people."

Harry raised an eyebrow and Ron's eyes widened, "So is that how you got that scar?"

Harry noticed the flash in his eyes again and elbowed Ron in the side, but not before Hermione somehow kicked him under the table, "Ron you insensitive clod!" she hissed.

Heaving a sigh, Danny gestured for Neville to lean in. Neville, who had been watching them, seemed to perk up and scooted closer, the rest of the Golden Trio leaned in as well, "If I tell you now will you stop asking?"

Everyone stared pointedly at Ron who flinched and nodded. Running a hand through his night-like hair, he did his best to explain, "Well… have you all heard of Death Eaters?"

Apprehension thickening in the air, the three listening nodded, "So Voldemort is a problem in America as well?" wondered Harry aloud.

Ron, Neville, and Danny flinched, "The name!" Ron tried to remind him.

"Oh go off it Ron," said Hermione, "it's just a name."

A glaring match ensued, but it was soon broken by Danny continuing his narration, "Yes, he a problem all over the wizarding world. Anyway, there's this organization called the Ku Klux Klan that was formed long ago in America to persecute blacks. Some of them turned out to be witches or wizards and they somehow negotiated and allegiance with You-Know-Who and His death eaters, so in America, if you weren't a Pure-blood or if you were black—Pure-blood or not—you were persecuted.

"I'm best friends with a boy named Tucker, he's African-American, but nobody cared, he was just Tucker the Tecno-Geek to them. He wasn't a wizard, only I was but he knew. One day, a few years before I was old enough to be accepted into a Wizard school, we walked home together. We were gonna' play video games ("What're video games?" asked Ron) till we got knocked unconscious by the combination of junk food and no sleep. We reached my house and I opened the door to let him in first. He walked in and the next thing I knew he was falling back down the steps as green light shot out the door. 'Danny!' he yelled to me, 'don't go in!'

"But I heard a scream, 'That sounded like Jazz!' I rushed in and saw a Death Eater had my parents and sister, Jazz, cornered in the kitchen. I jumped on them and yelled 'Run for it!' My family ran into our basement just as the KKK member or Death Eater (never found out which) threw me off onto the floor. Now don't get e wrong, I was scared! These people would seriously kill you! He pointed his wand at me and started to say something, but someone pushed me out of the way just in time."

Danny's voice had started to choke up a little, Hermione reached over and squeezed his arm reassuringly and Neville did his best to make his smile look warm. Harry and Ron on the other hand were looking at him worriedly, "Danny…" Harry slowly said, a horrible feeling welling up in the pit of his stomach, "what was the spell the Death Eater was using?"

Danny thought hard, "Avada something…" he trailed off at the looks of horror on all their faces, "Why? What's so bad about it?"

"Danny," Hermione addressed him, "Avada Kadavera is the Killing Curse."

Danny's eyes widened, "I-is it green?"

They all nodded, "There's no way to survive it if it hits you." Neville added his two cents.

"Really?" Danny's eyes unfocused and caressed his scar.

"You're scar… it's from the Killing Curse?" whispered Ron.

Danny nodded. Harry's eyebrow threatened to take up a residence in his hair, "No one ever told you this?"

"Well… in America, they want absolutely nothing to do with the Dark Arts, we never learned about them."

Hermione scoffed, "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard! You don't even have the slightest idea of what the Dark Arts are?"

Danny scrunched up his face in thought, "Well… we hear things of course. I mean, there's like no way to avoid Death Eater encounters but nothing ever educational."

He sighed, "Can I just eat now? I don't like remembering this stuff…"

Ron nodded, a look of almost awe on his face. Harry, on the other hand, was thinking. So he wasn't the only other one to survive a Killing Curse. But then, wouldn't he have heard of Danny before? He examined him out of the corner of his eye, something was strange about the American, but he couldn't place his finger on just what.

Perhaps tonight he'd ask Danny to finish his narrative.

…**.**

**Authors Note:** Hi again! WOW! TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY! Don't expect this again! (Unfortunately) Anyway, thanks to my first two reviewers! You know who you are. BTW, Phantom Planet has not happened.


	3. Chapter 3: Ghosts

**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Danny Phantom and the Magic of Ages**

**By WarriorLoverInc**

**Chapter 3: Ghosts**

Everyone was excited for the Triwizard Tournament, yet outraged at the age restriction. Harry couldn't help but notice Danny seemed to take all this in with gusto. He immediately became friends with Fred and George after meeting them in the hall, and he could see them muttering mutinously to each other, that did nothing for his nerves.

"I just _hope_ against _hope_ that Danny doesn't turn out to be _too_ much like Fred and George." Hermione sighed.

At the sound of a small explosion, Harry turned to see the trio—Fred, George, and Danny—snickering at a dazed looking first year leaning against a wall.

Lavender and Parvati walked by them, glancing quickly at Danny and then hurrying off, heads bent together, giggling.

Hermione crossed her arms and huffed, "I don't see how scars would make anyone more desirable."

Harry cocked his head, "Who said that?" he unconsciously rubbed his own.

"Lavender and Parvati," Hermione watched their retreating backs, "I heard them talking at the feast."

"Well, a scarred up face would be a big improvement of Malfoy's, I'll tell you that." Ron laughed.

Harry grinned, then frowned, remembering something, "Speaking of scars, you saw the new Professor, Moody?"

"Obviously." Hermione blew some bushy brunette hair out of her face.

"He knows how to make an entrance." Ron admitted.

The image flashed across Harry's mind, long, grizzled dark gray hair, heavily limping on his carved and clawed wooden leg, his small beady black eye and his large unblinking magic eye going up and down and side to side… and his face was just _covered_ in scars. He had the look of a hardened warrior. According to the rumors and his own nickname, he was much too eccentric as well.

"He is an ex-Auror, maybe he'll make one of the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers we've ever had." Hermione reasoned as if she heard Harry's last thought.

"Nobody's a chance against Lupin." Harry declared.

"Aye," Ron agreed.

Harry jumped at a tap on his shoulder, it was Danny. He had left Fred and George to the river of people and stopped him.

"Which way's the Gryffindor tower?" he asked.

Harry pointed out to him the correct course wondering why Danny wanted to know this when he was walking along the path towards it. If he just stayed with the crowd like everyone else he'd be lead there eventually.

Danny thanked him and walked off in the opposite direction. Out of pure curiosity, he didn't call out to the boy and watched as he met with Nearly Headless Nick halfway down the hall and turned out of sight. A few moments later, the Fat Friar and the Grey Lady disappeared in a hurry in the same direction. Surprisingly enough, the Bloody Baron phased through the floor above and followed them. Harry was about to turn away to catch up with Hermione and Ron to tell them the strange actions of the ghosts and Danny when Moaning Myrtle appeared before him.

"It's you." She said in an annoyingly high pitched voice in what was a very conspicuous pout.

"Y-yeah…" Harry replied lamely.

"You said you'd visit me."

"D… did I?"

"You did…" silvery tears began filling the eyes behind her glasses, "but I haven't seen you since _three years ago!_" she started wailing.

Harry panicked, "Uhm…! Well… It's been busy and all… and it just kinda'…"

"Slipped your mind?"

"Yeah…"

Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say. Moaning Myrtle flew bawling off after the other ghosts and left Harry standing bewildered in the middle of the hall. "Girls are weird…" he muttered before he ran off towards the Gryffindor common room.

…

Nearly Headless Nick was at a loss for words. The Bloody Baron, however, found some of his, "You can't tell us anything?" his voice was rough and quiet from disuse.

"No."

"Why not?" asked the Fat Friar. "If you're suspicious, we won't tell anyone else."

"That's still not it."

Silence filled the room as the crowd of ghosts around the one living being in the room puzzled over his words. Without a sound, he left. The kids would be missing "Danny" soon.

…

"The ghosts were _what?_" Hermione asked, incredulous.

"Following Danny." Harry repeated, "I've explained it a million times already."

"That's not normal, mate." Ron told him.

"I think we've established that, thanks." Harry replied.

"I read in _Hogwarts: A History_ that the ghosts greet and help those of their respective houses when they run into them, but you told me Nearly Headless Nick and a bunch of _other_ ghosts _followed_ him?"

Harry's only reply was an exasperated sigh.

From their spots on the various plush chairs in the red-and-gold Gryffindor common room, they heard noises outside the portrait hole.

"…but I'm _in_ the Gryffindor House! I need to get in; this is where I'll be living for the next year or so!"

"No password, no admittance!" the Fat Lady was adamant.

"Balderdash!" Danny spat at it, crossing his arms.

"Correct." And the painting swung open.

Despite the suspicious gloom that had fallen over the trio after Harry's strange news, they couldn't help but laugh as he stood there dumbstruck outside the portrait hole. He turned to them, jaw hanging limp, "But then… that was the… I was only gonna'…" Abandoning his line of thought, he crawled through the hole and into the common room.

Ron grabbed his hand and dragged him over to a chair, grinning from ear to ear, "If you leave your mouth like that much longer you'll catch more flies than Neville's toad."

There was a shuffling of feet as Neville fled the room with his fat toad Trevor. The slam of the boys' dormitory heavy wood door echoed about the common room as the Golden Trio examined Danny, and Danny examined the Golden Trio.

Finally, he spoke, "About that thing at the feast… the Killing Curse? I've decided it couldn't have been that, I would have died. I mean… no one's survived it before, have they?"

His posed question received bemused stares.

"Harry Potter," said Ron.

"Excuse me?" Danny didn't get what he meant.

"Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse fourteen years ago." Hermione informed him.

"Really?" Danny raised an eyebrow, "He must've been some powerful wizard."

More stares, "I was a baby."

Danny turned a puzzled gaze on Harry, "_You _did_?_"

Nodding, he indicated his lightning shaped scar, "Lord Voldemort"—Ron and Danny shivered—"tried to kill me with the Killing Curse when I was a baby, but couldn't. It left me with this."

A gleam appeared in Danny's eyes, "Oh? Why couldn't he kill you?"

Shrugging, Harry sighed, "I wish I knew."

"Oh," the gleam flickered then faded.

For some reason Danny was more interested in why he couldn't be killed than why he was still alive, or that Harry had even been attacked at all. Hermione eyed him nervously, he was staring into the fire, rubbing his scar and seemingly deep in thought.

Harry cleared his throat, "Anyway, enough about me, what about you?"

"Yeah," Ron ganged up on him, "You still haven't finished your story."

Danny glanced up at them, then at his _fascinating_ shoes. "I told you how I got my scar and that's all you asked to know about." Before anyone could catch him, he was up the stairs and in the boys' dormitory.

"But you didn't tell us who pushed you out of the way. Or _exactly_ how you got your scar. Or why you're still alive…" Ron mumbled uselessly after him.

"Well… I'm sure we've _much_ more secrets than him. He can have some of his own, especially if they're personal." Harry sighed and made to go to the dormitories too.

Hermione had loads for her mind to chew on that night, especially that gleam. The gleam that most certainly didn't belong in Danny's friendly blue eyes.

…

**Authors Note: **It's done! *Collapses* Oh how I _hate_ homework! *Shakes fist* and slow computers.

Thanks to all my awesome reviewers! And anyone who's +Fav'd it or +Story Alert'd it! *Hugs everybody*

Review please it keeps me sane.


	4. Chapter 4: Letter

**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Danny Phantom and the Magic of Ages**

**By WarriorLoverInc**

**Chapter 4: Letter**

The next morning, Danny was the first in the Hall for breakfast. He had a small meal consisting of some toast, eggs, and pumpkin juice.

"Why don't you have your egg on the toast?" Hermione asked.

Danny looked at her, "Why would I?"

Hermione shrugged, "That's how most people eat it."

Danny made a face, "I don't think very many people where I come from eat it that way." He shoveled the last of his egg into his mouth and stood as Ron and Harry walked in, "Got to go, I'll see you all later, I think."

Harry and Ron reached the table and watched Danny leave the Hall, "Did we scare him away?" Ron joked.

They all had a short laugh before digging in.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of wings and feathers as the morning mail swooped in. There was no sign of Hedwig. The owls circled the tables, searching for the subjects of their letters and parcels. A large tawny owl swooped over Neville and deposited a parcel in his lap—he forgot something again. Across the hall Draco Malfoy was enjoying the usual sweets from home. Struggling to ignore the disappointed and worried feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harry turned back to his plate.

He was abruptly interrupted by a swift peck to the top of his head by an owl. It was so gray it looked blue. It pecked him on the hand, wanting his attention.

"All right, all right…" he muttered. Who would this be from?

He reached foreword and untied a letter from its outstretched leg. The owl flew off as soon as it was free of the letter. Harry read the address:

_To Mr. Daniel Fenton_

_Currently attending Hogwarts_ _School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

IMPORTANT!

_For your eyes only Daniel_

_RPLY immediately_

Ron snatched the letter out of Harry's hands, "Who's it from then?"

"Hey," Harry tried and failed to grab it back. "It's not mine."

Ron stared at the address. Hermione made an impatient noise, "Whose is it then?"

He held it up for her to see, "It's for Danny."

Hermione took it, examining the envelope, "It says 'important'. I wonder why Danny's getting mail like this."

Ron seized it back, "Well, let's open it and find out!"

"No!" Hermione's finger brushed the edge of the envelope in a vain attempt to get it back. "It hasn't got your name on it! Don't open it! It's not your mail!"

Too late. Ron read to himself, paling considerably each second. Harry leaned over, his curiosity getting the best of him. It said:

_Dear Daniel,_

_Hope your stay at Hogwarts is going well. It may only be your fist day, but this "Triwizard Tournament" sounded so interesting, I had to mail you beforehand. It's sad you're too young to enter; your "skills" would render you the winner instantly. _

_But sources say a friend of yours will be a champion, is this true? Or have "they" not told you?_

_Don't go gallivanting about with your "skills", you've been told and I know you will obey. But this is just a routine checkup; I'll want a full report back._

_On more interesting news—_

—suddenly, the letter was snatched out of Ron's hand by a pale, wrinkled, long-fingered one.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, fifty points taken from each of you." It was Professor McGonagal. "I'm surprised at you boys! Reading other people's mail… I thought better of you two!"

Ron winced and Harry felt his face turn red. Hermione just had the "I-told-you-so" look on her face.

"And from the foreign exchange student no less!" she exclaimed, reading the address. She folded it up and slipped it in her robes, "I'll have to get this too him straight away. And you two!" she pointed out Harry and Ron, "One more time I find you doing this and it's three months detention!"

As the teacher stormed off, the group fell silent. Hermione because she was thinking about her friends, the two boys because the letter had sounded more than suspicious, what struck Harry most was the language, "I know you will obey?" Who said things that way to a fourteen year old?

Ron watched Hermione tentatively start on a piece of toast. "So you're eating today?"

Hermione didn't meet his eyes, "I've resolved there are better ways to fight elf slavery than depriving myself of food."

"It's not _slavery _Hermione, they _like_ it!"

Hermione's face reddened in Ron's direction, "They just _think_ they like it because they aren't _educated_ enough to decide for _themselves_!" She grabbed another toast and diva-walked out of the Hall.

Harry jumped in surprise as Fred and George suddenly appeared in front of his view of Hermione's back.

"'Ello all!"

"Lovely day!"

"Has anyone by chance seen our mate Danny around?" Harry thought this one was George. They both looked and dressed the same; it was always hard to tell.

He shrugged, "He left just before we came in. But Hermione was here with him, if you find her she'll probably be able to tell you."

The other twin, "Fred" maybe, clapped him on the shoulder, "Thanks Harry!"

After the twins left to go search for Hermione, Harry and Ron continued their breakfast in considerable silence. Nervously trying to break the sudden hush, Ron brought up a topic of much of their recent speculation, "So… Danny?"

Harry glanced up at him, then back down at his food, "Yeah? What about him?"

"He was acting pretty secretive last night. And that letter this morning…"

"Well… last night we were asking about some painful things. And that letter was none of our business."

"But you're always okay with telling us!"

"Yes, but you're my friends. Best friends at that. Danny's only been here one night and he's already told us a lot."

Ron sighed in thought, "He's just so… _weird_."

Harry smiled a bit, "Well… he is American. We don't really see or learn much about them because they're so new and different. Even Hermione has questions for Danny."

"But he's just so… _weird_."

…

Danny walked out of Dumbledore's office, inspecting his schedule. On Monday's he had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins, and double Divinations. On Tuesday block he had History of Magic and Potions. On Wednesday he had Charms, on Thursday's he had Transfiguration and double Defense Against the Dark Arts, and on Friday he had History of Magic, Charms, and double Potions with the Slytherins.

The reason he had been in Dumbledore's office to set his schedule was because of Astronomy. He had Astronomy on Tuesday and Thursday nights from 11:00 to midnight as an advance class. Normally a fourth year wouldn't be taking Astronomy but due to his request and his school's—"The American Academy for Young Wizards"—he would be taking it as long as he could keep up with homework in his other classes.

The bell rang. "Oops!" Danny dashed off to his first class, Herbology.

**. . .**

**Authors Note: **Two in one week! I'm on a roll!

Is it going too slow?

Is Danny not an important enough of a character?

How am I doing overall?

Will you review?

_Saturday, December 4, 2010_


	5. Chapter 5: Unforgivable

**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Danny Phantom and the Magic of Ages**

**By WarriorLoverInc**

**Chapter 5: Unforgiveable**

"Harry Potter."

Harry looked up and was met with the magnified eyes of Professor Trelawney and her usual forlorn look. Of course, it was only usual when she was looking at him.

"Yes?" Harry hastily tried to cover his chart and its two Saturn's and Ron looked quickly away, stifling a giggle.

"Is that your friend over there?" she pointed a knobby finger at Danny who was sharing a table with Neville, quickly scribbling something out on his chart while Neville looked on. Danny seemed to take pity on him and pointed something out.

"Yes?" Why was she asking him this?

She was instantly all up in his face. He nervously scooted back. "Has he told you anything about himself?"

"Um… yes?"

She glanced Danny's way as he laughed at a joke with Neville. "A tragic past… tragic past…"

Ron and Harry eyed her warily, for once she was right. But she could've read his records or something, she was a teacher.

And Professor Trelawney was back, "His scar?"

"What?" she had taken Harry by surprise, as usual.

"What about his scar?"

"Um…" Harry bit his lip. He wasn't sure he should be telling anyone Danny hadn't allowed him to about his scar. "He… he didn't tell me about his scar."

"Oh." Trelawney turned away with a whisk of her shawls, disappointed. "Perhaps I shall ask him myself."

_Why didn't she just do that in the beginning?_ Harry sighed exasperatedly. Why was it always him?

…

Danny was very irate in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Apparently, Professor Trelawney had interrogated him after class, and learned nothing more. Harry had a feeling she had found another person to make woebegone with her predictions of doom.

But everyone's woes were dispelled for the moment as Moody's lesson went into full swing. Moody definitely held a candle up to Lupin, _but it's only the first day_, Harry chided himself, _the first days were the best, the worst, or only a small taste of what was to come_. Now, they were going to learn about the Imperius Curse. Danny, who sat in front of Harry, stopped his angry tapping of his finger and gave Moody his complete attention.

Moody took a spider out of a jar on his desk and Harry felt Ron cringe, he hated spiders. Keeping the spider in plain sight, Moody demonstrated the curse to them, "_Imperio!_"

**The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backwards and forewords as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.**(1)

Everyone was laughing—everyone except Moody and Danny, both of whom had grim looks on their faces.

**"Think it's funny do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…"**(2)

Ron gave an involuntary shudder. Danny was nervously scratching his desk, the wood rubbing off under his relentless fingernail.

**"Years back there were a lot of wizards and witches being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, and Harry knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.**(2)

After throwing the spider back in the jar, he asked if anyone knew anymore curses. They learned of the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse. Normally, Danny and Neville acted the part of best friends—which Harry was sure they were—but when Neville stood staring blankly at a wall after the lesson, Danny walked right by without so much as glancing at him. The curses had really scared Neville, as they would any normal person, but the Unforgivable Curses seemed to have some adverse affect on Neville for reasons Harry could only guess at.

Harry watched Danny's back retreating down the corridor.

**"Neville?" Hermione said gently.

Neville looked around.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm—I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you alright?" said Hermione.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner—I mean lesson—what's for eating?"

Ron gave Harry a startled look.

"Neville what—?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on… we can have a cup of tea…"**(3)

His magic eye swiveled and glared at Danny as he turned a corner out of sight. Not a glare for not being with Neville, a glare for something else…

**Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You all right, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, _but you've got to know_. No point pretending… well… come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but they didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," said Hermione, looking pensive.

"Some lesson though, eh?" said Ron to Harry as they set off for the Great Hall. "Fred and George were right weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did _Avada Kedavera_, the way that spider just _died_, just snuffed it right—"

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and didn't speak again until they reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.

Hermione did not join with Harry and Ron's conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library _again_.**(3) Harry and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry who had been thinking of only two things (the Unforgivable Curses and something else…) raised the subject of his second thoughts.

"Ron?"

"Yep?"

"Do you think Danny would mind telling us about his letter?"

"Blimey mate!" Ron blinked at him, "We've already lost Gryffindor a hundred points in one fell swoop! I wouldn't be surprised if we get mobbed tonight! Maybe we should just stop digging. It might just be an American thing…"

"I don't think so…" Nobody should be treated that way. Living with the Dursley's for most of the summer (and more of his life than he cared to admit) Harry felt that anyone being mistreated in such a way—verbally, non, or physically—deserved to be free of it. He turned the word over in his mind.

_Obey… obey… obey…_

If anything it was his least favorite word. It was the formal way of saying, _do it or else…_ he had enough of that experience. If Danny was getting letters from Dursley-ish people, he wanted to know.

_Your just curious and like being nosey_, nagged a small voice in the back of mind, _you have to get yourself in trouble every year…_

Violently shaking his head to clear it of the train-wreck of a thought he was having, Harry boarded a new one.

_On more interesting news—_

What could the more interesting news be? The author of the letter had already hinted at some sort of skill Danny possessed, a friend of his would be in the tournament, that the letter was a routine check up, they expected a full report back, and this mysterious "they."

Harry's stomach clenched involuntarily at the word. It gave him a bad feeling for some reason.

_Now I'm just going crazy,_ he thought, _it's just a word._

_In quotation marks, _in_ a suspicious letter _to_ a suspicions student…_

_Great,_ Harry sighed loudly, _barking mad… I'm listening to voices in my head…_

"Balderdash."

Harry jumped in surprise, remembering he was in the company of Ron. He had really been thinking then. Best to stop now, they still had homework and he didn't want to hurt himself. He vaguely recalled Ron's one sided discussion with him on the way to the tower, something with Moody and Dumbledore and the Unforgiveable Curses…

**The Fat Lady swung foreword to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.**(4) A few people sent them glares, obviously noticing the conspicuous absence of one-hundred points and honing in on the most likely of suspects. They already had quite the reputation.

**"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" said Harry.

"I s'pose," Ron groaned.

They went to the dormitory to fetch their books and charts, to find Neville there alone, sitting on his bed, reading. He looked a great deal calmer then at the end of Moody's lesson, though still not entirely normal. His eyes were rather red.

"You all right, Neville?" Harry asked him.

"Oh yes," said Neville, "I'm fine thanks. Just reading this book Professor Moody lent me…"

He held up the book: _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean._

"Apparently Professor Sprout told Professor Moody I'm really good at Herbology," Neville said. There was a faint note of pride in his voice Harry had rarely heard there before. "He thought I'd like this."

Telling Neville what Professor Sprout had said, Harry thought, had been a very tactful way of cheering Neville up, for Neville very rarely heard he was good at anything. It was the sort of thing Professor Lupin would have done.**(5)

Danny's head poked out of the bed curtains at the end of the room. Throwing them open wide, he smiled brightly, "Harry! Ron! Where's Hermione?" Though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"D-Danny!" Neville sounded surprised, why would he be surprised? Harry wondered. "I didn't know you were in here! When did you come in?"

"Hm? I've been in here since Moody's lesson, I skipped lunch…" then he mumbled something about not being hungry.

Ron got on his tiptoes and peered into Danny's bed, "Are you writing a letter?"

Hesitantly nodding, Danny pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, his eyes not quite so friendly, "But it's none of your business."

Harry realized he must have been talking about how they read his mail earlier.

"Look… about that…" Harry sighed, "Ron and I are sorry, we shouldn't have done that."

"He… hey!" Ron stammered, "I can apologize for myself!"

An uneasy silence blanketed the room as Ron and Harry waited anxiously for Danny's reply. To Neville this was news, he stayed silent as well.

…

Peering from the nervously shuffling Ron, to the somewhat calm Boy-Who-Lived…

_Heh… _a shark-like grin appeared on Danny's face, unnoticed by the occupants of the room due to his hair. He looked up from the paper, grin gone on the outside but still there internally. _Boy-Who-Lived… I'm sure he wouldn't be apologizing if he knew who I was…_

…Danny smiled disarmingly, "I forgive you. I'm sorry, I must sound so secretive sometimes, I'd be curious too if an owl gave me a letter that wasn't mine and sounded like that."

The tense aura lifted from the room. Ron visibly relaxed and Neville smiled slightly and went back to his book, but Harry continued to scrutinize Danny. He walked over and sat next to him.

"Who're you writing too?"

Danny beamed, "My sister."

_Filthy, nosey, cheeky, lucky little…_

"Oh!" Harry raised an eyebrow, "I didn't know you had a sister."

_You wouldn't. _Shouldn't_. But you're a snooping, meddling, annoying…_

Purposely crinkling his brow, Danny tried to look sad, "Well…" he felt a good lie coming on, "we're not exactly on the best terms…"

_Let the prying, disgusting, irritating, fluky, little boy think up his own conclusion._

…

_Oh,_ Harry thought, the gears in his head spinning, _that's why the letter sounded a little hostile…_

So that letter was really personal. Great, now Harry felt even worse than when he had been caught reading it. Seeing Danny's dejected expression, Harry switched the topic, "You wanted to know where Hermione had gone?"

Danny tore his eyes away from his half finished letter and looked expectantly to Harry, nodding.

"She's in the library… _again_."

Danny smiled a little. Folding up his letter and grabbing his quill, Danny stood and stretched.

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry smiled kindly, "See you later?"

Ron came up behind him, "Yeah, mate?"

Danny nodded and left the dormitories, slamming the door behind him and creaking down the stairs.

**. . . **

**Authors Note: **Dooooone! Kill the block! *Shakes fist*

(1): Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Page 212-213

(2): Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Page 213

(3): Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Page 219

(4): Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Page 220

(5): Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Page 220-221

_Tuesday, December 7, 2010_


	6. Chapter 6: Books

**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Danny Phantom and the Magic of Ages**

**By WarriorLoverInc**

**Chapter 6: Books**

Several stacks of old dusty volumes concealed the brunette girl surrounded by the books, seemingly dead to the world in all her silence, feverishly scanning page after page and soaking up the proffered knowledge like a dry sponge.

_A Gargantuan Guide to Ghouls and Ghosts_ was thick and interesting, but it wasn't what she was looking for.

With a sigh she snapped the huge book shut and held it by the spine in the air. As she let go, it floated off to its shelf amid the various tomes of the Hogwarts library like a cloud in the sky.

_This search was useless,_ she thought, _why did I start looking anyway?_

"_Because you and your friends are nosey."_

Hermione squeaked in surprise and shifted—startled—in her seat. She whipped her head around, nobody was in sight.

Sinking down in her chair, Hermione decided to switch topics, feeling foolish. _Nobody could have read my thoughts._

"_Or maybe they could've."_

Hermione jumped out of her chair, knocking over a stack of books in her haste, they immediately righted themselves. "Who's there?"

She was met with laughing silence. Shaking slightly, she grabbed a few books on elves, turned to leave…

…and ran right into the chest of Danny Fenton.

With an "Oof!" he fell over, several of the hard books landing with a thud on his stomach, chest, and head. He lay there dazed for a few seconds before he pushed the books off himself and shook the gathering metaphorical cobwebs out of his head, "Hermione?"

She just stood there looking stunned.

Danny tried standing but found he couldn't, the books had winded him, he found he felt himself weak, and his legs were trapped under an enormous volume labeled _A Brief History of the Servitude of the House-Elf_.

_Brief?_ shrilled his mind. Danny didn't think that looked brief.

"Hermione?" he tried again but louder, risking being overheard by the crabby old librarian Mrs. Pince.

Hermione's mouth moved, but no sound escaped her. She pointed a shaking finger at Danny's forehead.

With a confused expression, Danny felt his brow. Something sticky and wet met his fingertips, and when he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood.

Suddenly, Hermione broke out of her reverie, "Oh no Danny, you're bleeding! Your head is bleeding!"

"Yeah, it was probably one of your books." Danny frowned slightly at the scarlet liquid; he saw no cause for alarm.

Hermione dropped down next to him, trying to help him up, "We need to get you to Madame Pomfrey right now!" pulling out her wand, Hermione aimed at the book and shouted with a hint of desperation, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

The tome didn't move.

Sighing loudly, Danny pulled out his wand and calmly recited, "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

The book rose into the air immediately and dropped onto one of the nearby desks. The world swayed like a tree in a storm as Danny stood and he quickly gripped the nearest shelf for support.

Hermione grabbed his arm and started pulling him out of the library; her ragged, anxious, breathing and exclaimed apologies earned her glares from Mrs. Pince.

"Oh Danny I'm so sorry! I should have watched where I was going! This is all my fault! I should've—"

An escaping laugh from Danny sent the world spinning again, "Hermione, it's alright. Really! Everyone makes mistakes. It's just a little blood anyway. I don't need to go to—"

Hermione was glaring back at him, "Your eyes are crossed Danny."

"Are they?" his voice sounded a little airy. He tried to un-cross them, the world took a nosedive.

Hermione caught him just in time, biting her lip nervously, "That was a heavy book that fell on your head. I'd fix you myself but I don't know any healing charms, and for a head injury a professional would settle my fears…"

They rounded a corner, and Hermione just about collided with Neville. Yelping, Neville's eyes resembled full moons when he took in the sight of Danny, who by now was leaning on Hermione for support.

"D… Danny!"

Danny tried to roll his eyes, but that resulted in a stumble forewords, Neville had to catch him this time, "Yes, I know Neville, my head is bleeding."

Looking up at the visage of his friend twisted by his eyesight, Danny pleaded quietly with him, "Neville! Tell Hermione I don't need to go to the nurse!"

Neville's face turned resolute and he threw Danny's arm over himself as Hermione walked over to his other side and did the same, both of them supporting the boy, "No Danny," he said. "You need the nurse; you obviously haven't looked in the mirror."

Danny moaned, there was nowhere he could go without someone to support him, he was stuck going to Madame Pomfrey, whether he wanted to or not. They dragged him through corridor after endless corridor till they reached the tall wooden doors of the infirmary. Hermione and Neville had reminiscent looks on their faces; they had obviously been here many times before.

Pushing the door open with his foot, Neville helped tow Danny into the large room. The moment they were all through, Madame Pomfrey, the tidy little witch who knew her healing, trooped out of her office to the right of the door with a sound not unlike annoyance.

She glared from Neville to Hermione, "You again." She stated more than asked. "What've you hurt this time?"

Hermione nodded towards Danny.

Madame Pomfrey was scrutinizing him up and down, making Danny a little self conscious remembering the state of his hair and robes. After peering long and hard at the gash on his forehead, she helped him to one of the many crisp white beds, "And what was it this time?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but Madame Pomfrey beat her to the punch, "I suppose it was a dragon? Some forbidden spell? Did the centaurs in the forest get him?" her sarcasm was admirable.

Danny had the impression she had dealt with them plenty of times before. Muttering to herself—something about "children" and "always getting injured"—she briskly walked into her office. Danny sighed loudly when she had left, it did feel better to be lying down. As he settled further into the bed, Hermione leaned over him.

"Madame Pomfrey may seem strict," she said, "but she's very nice and cares for us. She's always working herself into a tizzy about us getting hurt."

Neville nodded. With a confused set of the jaw, he asked, "What gave you that gash anyway, Danny?"

With a raised eyebrow at Hermione, Danny replied, "Hermione's ten-ton book."

Neville's face suggested he'd never go near books again.

"What were you doing in the library anyway Danny?" Hermione questioned him.

Tentatively poking around his gash, he didn't look her in the eye. "Looking for you."

Hermione's face discovered a new shade of delicate red, "Wh—why would you be looking for me?"

Danny blew some hair out of his face. "I wanted to have an intelligent talk. Not that nobody else is," he aimed this at Neville, "but for some reason I find it fun to talk to you."

He was seemingly oblivious to the scarlet color of her face. "I… I need to go and—and tell Harry and Ron what happened!" She dashed out of the room, Neville and Danny gaping after her.

"Was it something I said?" Danny asked no one but everyone, Neville shrugged. "Girls can be weird," he stated. Madame Pomfrey came bustling in and muttered something about using the right spell while she began pouring out a liquid that he expected was definitely _not_ pumpkin juice.

…

He didn't know where he was, but it didn't hurt. It was dark, but brighter than the sun on a clear day. Everything was silent and louder than rush-hour New York. He was standing on thin air, his own thoughts swirling around. Hours had passed yet not a second was gone.

Someone told him to do something, and he did it. He didn't know who it was, or why he obeyed, it was enough to know he existed.

There were some of his thoughts—they were the furthest away—that whispered things. Things against himself that were shoved into a dark cobwebbed corner, all but forgotten, screaming to be let out. They were the loudest, but the easiest to drone out.

Everything contradicted itself in here. Supposedly, he was the hero, the good guy, the champion. Yet, those thoughts screamed the truth, deserter, murderer, thief, liar…

_You are weak,_ they said, _exactly what you said you'd never become._

Right in front of him was always a wall. It would break at the strongest of touch, a touch that took will. But every time his will became enough to break the wall, it was staunched again. Snuffed out like a candle flame that had finally succumbed to the dark windy night.

_You are doing horrible things,_ the Truth whispered, _wake up soon, or it's too late…_

…

Neville woke slowly, a moonbeam shining in his face. Yawning, he stretched. Suddenly realizing he was still in the infirmary, he jumped up, what time was it? Neville panicked, his vacated chair was right next to Danny's bed, he never remembered falling asleep.

Hearing a quiet whimper, Neville turned to see Danny thrashing in bed. Not violently, it was just a prominent twitch of the arms and legs. He threw his head back and Neville noticed his skin glistened with sweat in the faint moonlight. Turning from Danny who must've been experiencing a truly terrible nightmare, Neville scrambled over to Madame Pomfrey's office, the patients ragged breathing and gasping sobs chasing his feet.

"Madame Pomfrey!" Neville banged on the door. "Madame Pomfrey!"

Madame Pomfrey emerged in her night robes, yawning, "Oh, Neville, you're still here."

"Madame Pomfrey, I think Danny's having a nightmare." He walked over to the boy, sacred to get too close lest he do something wrong.

Feeling his forehead, where the gash was now gone, she quickly pulled her hand away, "He's freezing!" She shook him in an attempt to wake Danny. "Danny… Danny! Danny, wake up!" Danny didn't respond to any of her attempts. As a last effort, she whipped out her wand. "_Rennervate!_"

If anything, the charm seemed to make it worse. Madame Pomfrey, in a rare moment, had no idea what to do. "Neville!" she fluttered her hand his way, "Go get Dumbledore!"

Nodding, Neville fled the room. Halfway down the corridor, he rammed into something solid, falling on his rear end. He heard a scuffle and a sound not unlike a cloak whipping aside, then silence.

Neville scrambled to his feet, eyes widening in fear, "He… hello? Who… who's there?"

Silence.

_I must've imagined it,_ he told himself, _Gram says I do that a lot…_

"I didn't hear anything, I didn't hear anything, I didn't hear anything…" murmured quietly, trying to reassure himself as he dashed off towards Dumbledore's office.

…

Harry clamped his mouth shut the moment Neville stood again.

_Is he bloody mad?_ Harry thought, _running through the halls at night!_

Harry caught those thoughts, what was Neville doing running through the halls at night? Neville started off again. Harry gave it consideration; he _was_ going to visit Danny, but…

Without a second thought, Harry began following Neville, easily keeping pace with the stumbling trot he had set. Suddenly, Harry recognized the corridors they were traveling; they were heading for Dumbledore's office. Nervously pulling the invisibility cloak tighter around himself, he tried to stick closer to the shadows in the corners, if it were even possible, he was all ready a pinkie's-width from brushing the rough stone.

They reached the stone gargoyle. Neville began worriedly wringing his hands. Harry realized he must not know the password. He was curious about Neville's actions, why would he visit Dumbledore so late at night? Inching up to the office guardian, he whispered: "Ice Mice."

Neville jumped and let out a surprised squeak as the stone gargoyle started spinning up, revealing the staircase to the Headmasters Office. Glancing tensely around, he dashed up the stairs, Harry followed closely behind him.

Before Neville could knock on the door however, Dumbledore himself opened it.

"Ah! Neville," he exclaimed, smiling warmly, "so nice to see you. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Neville looked as shell-shocked as one can get. "Uh… Professor Dumbledore sir… Danny… in the infirmary…"

Dumbledore held up his hand for silence and Harry could have sworn he saw him glance his way. "After you then, this must be urgent if Madame Pomfrey couldn't handle it."

Harry followed them invisibly back to the infirmary. All the way, he wondered what could've happened to Danny that the school nurse couldn't handle.

The American student sure was… _abnormal_.

But then again, Harry was one to be talking.

Madame Pomfrey answered the door immediately after Neville had knocked, she slammed it closed so fast, Harry had trouble getting through in time, and the edge of his cloak got caught in the door. He was stuck until someone opened it again. Harry tried to split his attention between the bed everyone was gathered around and trying to work his cloak free.

"Headmaster Dumbledore!" he head Madame Pomfrey exclaim. "He's freezing! I have no idea what to do…!" She was fretting with the edge of her apron, anxiously trying to pull the covers tighter around her patient. "He won't wake up and he must be having a horrid nightmare!"

"What have you given him already?"

"I tried to wake him up, manually and with a spell, and I've forced a dozen warming potions down his throat!" she was speaking frantically fast.

The edge of the cloak budged a little, Harry turned his attention back to the commotion. He could see one of Danny's legs hanging over the edge of the bed. It was a sickly blue-ish tint.

_But I thought Hermione said she only hit him with a book?_

With a ruffling sound like sheets being moved, Dumbledore's hand emerged from under the hospital linen, clutching a small light-blue ball in his hand. It was see-through, as if glass, with a light cerulean tinge. It shone beautifully in the moonlight.

"Iceglacies," Dumbledore frowned, "not a very powerful magic object, but whomever is in possession of it will experience extreme cold and horrible visions." He turned to Neville, "Neville, you were in here correct?"

Neville nodded, staring blankly at Danny.

"Did Daniel have this in his possession when he arrived?"

He screwed up his face in thought. "No, I… I don't think he did."

Madame Pomfrey felt Danny's forehead, a smile of relief appeared on her haggard features, "He's warming up!"

Dumbledore was still frowning, "This is very serious. Whoever placed this object on Danny will be found and severely punished." His eyes flashed for the briefest of moments to Danny's closed eyes, a look of mistrust reflected in them. Harry almost felt sorry for whoever gave Danny the Iceglacies.

**. . .**

**Authors Note: **Iceglacies are unfortunately not real… otherwise I'd give one to my brother every time he decided to annoy the heck out of me. (Not really, I'm not a monster)

Books can be dangerous, mark my words… does anyone have a better title for this? I've been racking my poor brain but I still can't think of anything better. I like the "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" part, but the "Danny Phantom and the Magic of the Ages" is too vague and I dunno'… I just don't like it.

Anyway, I'm rambling now. I said I'd do little filler, here's the "little". Heh heh… *nervous laughter*

Peace out.

_Sunday, December 12, 2010_

R&R Please.

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	7. Chapter 7: Meanwhile

**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Danny Phantom and the Magic of Ages**

**By WarriorLoverInc**

**Chapter 7: Meanwhile**

Vladimir Masters was normally a reserved, well-mannered man who looked upon situations with such an icy calm he often appeared bored, which he frequently was. Today was not one of those days.

With a growl of frustration he slammed the daily newspaper onto his expensive Brazilian mahogany desk, disrupting his seven designer pens he had so carefully organized in a line. Today's headline was the usual:

**GHOSTS WREAK HAVOC**

Within the newspaper was a tiny black and white postage-stamp sized square under a huge color advertisement about Nasty Burger, an article on the missing local boy, Daniel Fenton. Daniel hadn't been seen in over a month. The last reported sighting was from a batty old cat woman whom he had passed before entering the City Center Park. He had stopped to help her free one of her many cats from the clutches of a tree.

Vlad sighed in annoyance. He had paid—yes _paid_ (it was surprising how many ghosts still had an obsession with money)—at least a dozen ghosts to search the Ghost Zone top to bottom. And over again. Several of the ghosts had been destroyed in the effort, but the important thing was, it seemed as though Daniel had vanished off the face of the earth.

Now, Vlad knew he could willingly do that at any moment, but according to his family and friends, he hadn't been acting strange before he disappeared. Daniel seemed to have no real reason to have done just that. He remembered his confrontation with the two human friends of Daniels quite well.

…

Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley were as normal as a Goth recyclo-vegetarian and a red bereted techno-geek could get. Spending a normal afternoon at the local Nasty Burger was what children like them did. Whispering urgently? Perhaps not that.

Samantha gasped as she no doubt felt an icy chill engulf her, the dark-skinned boy next to her doing the same. They were roughly pulled through the ungodly red booth they had occupied, their numerous cheap burgers and strawberry tofu shake lying abandoned on the greasy table.

Plasmius phased out of the back wall of the shameful excuse for a food joint and let the two teens unceremoniously drop to the ground and out of his black gloved grip. They landed none too gently on a mound of trash bags.

"Aw man!" he heard Tucker moan. "My baby can't take slime!"

"Tucker!" Samantha savagely elbowed him in the ribs causing him to drop his beloved "hi-tech" PDA into his lap. "Now's not the time!"

Plasmius heard the boy mutter something darkly as he stowed away his technology. Calmly folding his arms before him, Plasmius looked expectantly to the children. Whenever they were in his presence, violence was the usual reaction. _Teenagers_, his mind sighed, _such unstable creatures._

Samantha stood defiantly and pointed an accusing finger at his chest. "We know why you're here!" she stated.

Plasmius coolly raised an eyebrow. "Really?" his echoing voice drawled.

"Yeah!" Tucker added his two-cents.

"But…!" Manson narrowed her eyes, "first! Answer one question!"

Plasmius shrugged nonchalantly, he had nothing to lose. "Shoot."

"WHERE IS DANNY!" The two humans shouted up at him in unison.

He stared coolly down at them, making sure to hover slightly higher and demonstrate just how imposing his ghostly authority was. "Funny," he narrowed his eyes as well, "I was going to ask you the same thing."

The black flower that was Samantha wilted slightly under his gaze. "You… you don't know where he is either?"

"Why would I?" Plasmius's anger flared slightly at the children before him. What was he? Some omnipresent deity? That would be nice, and Vlad couldn't say he hadn't tried, but he as of yet, wasn't. And he was _so_ aggravated that the younger half-ghost had given him—Vladimir Masters!—the complete slip, leaving not a trace, not a clue as to his whereabouts; he was ready to burn down a city in his rage.

But not his city, not Amity Park. Mayors didn't burn down their own cities.

So, instead, he incinerated a pile of trash to the left of Danny's friends. Their eyes widened and they took a few steps away.

Plasmius turned back to them, carefully reigning in his emotions again. "So… from what I've heard, neither of you know where he is either?"

Tucker and Samantha exchanged glances, "We thought he was on some drawn out ghost fight at first. Then, when he didn't come home, we got worried and searched. We tried all the Fenton ghost trackers, even the "Boo-merang", we didn't find anything. We… we just assumed it was you. You were the only one who was ever able to hide Danny from us before."

Vlad closed his eyes; they had good reason to believe it to be himself. He _was_ a powerful rich man with a twisted kind of grudge against the Fenton's, Daniel in particular. He nodded, asserting to himself he had nothing more to learn here.

"Very well then…" he made to fly off home and puzzle the situation over. _Again._

"Wait…" Plasmius paused, glancing down at the boy who had spoken. He nervously fingered his beret. "Would… would you tell us if you find anything?"

Plasmius shrugged uncaringly, why not?

"Well… then…" a slap rang out. Samantha had struck Tucker across the face.

"Tucker…!" she hissed.

Rubbing his reddened cheek, Tucker replied, "But Sam! It might help find Danny!"

Plasmius narrowed his glowing red eyes, obviously suspecting he was not being divulged a piece of critical information.

Samantha clapped a hand over Tuckers blabbering mouth. "Go. Away." She growled at him.

Smiling, flashing his vampiric fangs in the dull sunlight of the Nasty Burger back alleyway, Plasmius watched the two teens struggling with each other. The Tucker boy broke out of the fray long enough to gasp, "The last coordinates from the Boo-merang were somewhere over Scotland!"

And then Samantha took it upon herself to personally murder him.

…

The problem was, that meant someone (or maybe even Daniel himself) didn't want the boy found. It wasn't that the Boo-merang hadn't found him; it had been lost before it could.

Vlad sighed loudly, rubbing his eyebrows in agitation. Why was Daniel such a _slippery_ little badger?

And _what_ had he gotten himself into this time?

**. . .**

**Authors Note:** Anybody else craving apple juice?

A special thanks to all my reviewers, and especially Mic Morrison who joined FF.N just to review my story. : )

_Tuesday, December 14, 2010_


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